


Bright Eyes

by charliefromoz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Bunker, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Karaoke, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3358700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliefromoz/pseuds/charliefromoz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is pleasantly surprised to find that Sam has thrown him a surprise party, but he can't shake the disappointment that someone is missing from the party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright Eyes

36 years old. When did that happen? Dean Winchester thought back ten years when he got electrocuted and they told him his heart would give out before long. Sam had found a solution, but if Dean had been in a different kind of family, one that didn’t believe in ghosts and monsters and demons, he wouldn’t be alive right now.

He thought about the car accident and Tessa. Hell. Purgatory. All those times he should have died, and here he was at 36 years old.  Practically ancient, considering he had been a hunter since the age of 4. Of course, if he had been born with a different legacy, if the family business had been something much simpler, he probably would have made it to 36 with a few less scars.

Still, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

_Happy birthday to me_ , he thought. He and Sam didn’t usually celebrate birthdays. Like Christmas, they bore many reminders of the people who weren’t there to celebrate with them.

Still, Sam could have at least gone out to buy the pie, Dean thought, as he parked Baby back inside the bunker garage. Does a man have to do everything for himself?

He unlocked the door to the bunker and paused. It was eerily quiet. And then—

“Surprise!”

If Dean had been holding anything but pie, he would have dropped it for his gun. Despite the shock, he smiled to see the familiar faces. Sheriff Mills, Charlie, Dorothy, and even Mrs. Tran with ghost Kevin in tow—they had all made it. Dean frowned a little when he saw Garth and his werewolf wife, but some quick calculations told him the full moon wasn’t for another week.

Sam was laughing at Dean’s reaction. “Happy birthday, big brother,” he said.

“We never celebrate birthdays,” Dean said. He held up the shopping bag. “I only got one pie.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. Mrs. Tran brought more.” 

Dean looked at Mrs. Tran, who winked, then at the small crew. His friends. Well, most of them anyway.

He looked at Sam. “No word from—?”

Sam shook his head. “If he’s listening to angel radio, he’s not coming.”

Dean sighed. He didn’t know why he was so surprised. They often went weeks without hearing from Cas. Still, it didn’t hurt any less to hear him gone.

Because Dean’s trip to the store had been relatively brief, Sam hadn’t had time to set up the entire party, but decorations were quickly rolled out, with more pie and hard liquor than Dean knew what to do with. Meanwhile Charlie was providing a bumpin playlist for them to dance to, and Dean was amazed at how quickly the bunker had been transformed. They should treat it more like a bachelor pad and less like a library more often.

Dean was just starting to feel loose, several beers and slices of pie into the day, when a strange hush fell over the room. He turned around, hopeful.

A strange dread filled him. “Death?” he asked.

The man shrugged, shedding his black trench coat and tossing it over a chair. “You’ve evaded me so many times—and that’s not even including all the lives you’ve saved—so I’ve decided to take a day off on your birthday every year. Consider it a holiday in your honor.” He said all of this humorlessly, but Dean was in too good a mood to care.

“Well come on, buddy, have a shot,” he said, handing Death a glass. Death tossed it back, unaffected.

This was about as good a day as it was going to get for Dean. Charlie and Dorothy were in the middle of a spirited reenactment of their defeat of the Great Northern Elves of Oz, when a smooth voice came from the door. 

“Well, frankly, I’m offended no one thought to invite me to this little shin-dig.”

“That’s because no body likes you, Crowley,” Sam said, crossing his arms.

“Well, it’s not your birthday, is it Moose?” Crowley said. “Who’s to say that Squirrel doesn’t want me around? We have history, you know. Besides, nobody parties like the King of Hell.” He snapped his fingers, and minions appeared at his side. “Open bar on me, boys. I’ll start with one of those pink things with the umbrella.”

On a normal day, they would care. But Crowley was a decent friend when he wasn’t selling Sam and Dean out for some higher purpose. Beggers couldn’t be choosers, Dean thought, and maybe Crowley wouldn’t be so bad to have around tonight. 

“I also brought a karaoke machine,” Crowley said, as two more demons entered with the equipment. “Maybe we could do a duet later?”

Maybe, but Dean had to run through some of his favorites first. Namely, “Too Sexy For My Shirt.” Sam didn’t have to know that it was a throwback to his Demon days, and anyway, it was a _great song_.

But anyway after he forced Sam into doing Like a Virgin and Sheriff Mills sang Livin On A Prayer (who knew she had a great voice, anyhow?), only then did he agree to sing a duet with Crowley.

“Really?” he asked, when he saw Crowley’s choice.

“Trust me,” Crowley said. “It’ll be great! I’ll start, you echo.” And so he began: _“Turn around...”_

  _Dean rolled his eyes but continued the verse: “Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming round”_

  _“Turn around…”_

  _“Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears…”_

 They continued in this format until the chorus, when Crowley sang “ _Turn around bright, eyes,”_ and they belted the rest out in unison:

> _“Every now and then I fall apart_
> 
> _And I need you now tonight_
> 
> _And I need you more than ever_
> 
> _And if you only hold me tight_
> 
> _We'll be holding on forever.”_

They almost didn’t hear the quiet, gravel voice from the doorway. “Dean?”

Dean stopped singing, but the music rolled on. He looked at the doorway where Castiel stood, his trench coat covered in dirt and his tie as crooked as always.

“Cas?” he said, trying not to let his voice rise with the emotions building inside of him.

“Bright eyes?” Cas asked, looking from Crowley to Dean with his brow furrowed, and this was not because he didn’t understand the reference.

Dean looked at Crowley, who winked and said, “I told you it was a good song.”

“Wait.” Dean said. “You wouldn’t come for my birthday when Sam called, but you came when you found out I was singing a duet with _Crowley_?”

The quiet in the room quickly got awkward. “Hey, Sam, you were going to show us those books about Oz, right?” Charlie said. Everyone filed out and Crowley and his demons conspicuously disappeared, leaving Dean staring up at Castiel, who still stood in the door at the entrance of the bunker.

 “Where have you been, Cas?” Dean said.

 “I’ve been doing work for you, Dean. Trying to find a way to get rid of the Mark of Cain for _you_.”

 “And I appreciate that but—“

 “But you’ve just been here singing karaoke with Crowley,” Cas finished.

 “I can sing whatever I—“

 In a flap of wings, Cas was standing before Dean, closer than they had been in a long time. “Only _I_ get to call you bright eyes,” he growled.

 “Dammit Cas,” Dean said, his voice husky with longing, and suddenly he couldn’t wait any longer. He took Cas’s face in his hands and kissed him.

 Castiel’s mouth softened immediately as he returned the kiss before pulling away, his blue eyes looking earnestly up into Dean’s green ones. Bright eyes all around. “I wish I had brought pizza,” Cas said.

Dean laughed softly. “That’s okay. You’re here, right?” He looked around the room, listening for Sam’s voice or Garth’s laugh. “What do you say we get some privacy alright? This party will be just fine without us.”

He led Cas back to his room, closing the door behind him. “And Cas?” he said. “Thanks for coming back.”

“I’ll always come back for you, Dean.” Cas said. “And, I almost forgot. Happy birthday.”


End file.
